


Easier to Pretend

by HiroMyStory



Series: Easier to . . . [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: AU from a Good Day to Die, Angst, Emotional Whump, F/M, Free Will, Heavy Angst, No. 17: I Did Not See That Coming, Whumptober 2020, no comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27807397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiroMyStory/pseuds/HiroMyStory
Summary: Many years afterEasier to Stayand deep in a relationship with Lucifer, Chloe begins to notice something is Very Wrong.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Easier to . . . [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034583
Comments: 18
Kudos: 93
Collections: LuciferBingo





	Easier to Pretend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlitchedMindy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitchedMindy/gifts).



> This is a weird fic that won’t make a lick of sense if you don’t read _Easier to Stay_ first. 
> 
> Another belated Whumptober 2020 entry, and filling the “misunderstanding” prompt for LuciferBingo.

Chloe lay with her head on her husband’s chest, watching him as he slept, his face moving in and out of her view as he breathed. He was just as handsome as the day they met, and her heart ached with how much she loved him, which just made all the worse the niggling worry that has taken root like a choking vine. It was this little poison that flowed through her days and nights. Her perfect days and nights. She hadn’t been able to put her finger on it, even as the feeling grew and grew and grew until she could hardly breathe.

Everything has been absolutely, unquestionably, invariably perfect since they’d gotten together. Since they’d _picked up where they left off_. He’d nursed her through her recovery from her poisoning, doting by her hospital bed and then in her home. He’d been so perfect, but quiet, too, so unlike the partner she knew. Chloe knew well how trauma could affect a person, the trauma of losing someone, or of nearly losing them. So she told herself his shock explained his behavior, his strange quiet. And, besides, wasn’t his reaction the proof she’d craved that he cared? She got better, and they settled back into a routine. They started dating and things were so, so good. Even his ‘devil talk’ had tapered off.

She would never have imagined him to be boyfriend material, and yet he was perfect. She’d been nervous when she’d asked him to move in, figuring he wouldn’t want to leave the penthouse. While it wasn’t her style or ideal for Trixie, she’d been in deep and ready to give on the point and move in with him instead. But to her surprise, Lucifer had not protested in the slightest, packing just a few of his things and sending the rest to storage as soon as she asked. Their new routine had been even better, so perfectly in sync she was nearly pinching herself most days. It was only occasionally she noticed something was missing—a quip, an insight, a bit of their yin-yang magic that broke cases. She missed him challenging her, his smart-ass comments, the endless innuendo. But maybe innuendo wasn’t important when they were already together. And his unwavering support was nice, too. While cases got solved differently, they still had the best closure rate in the department.

Chloe had found herself wanting more. She’d been scared, because a part of her couldn’t believe Lucifer Morningstar could be the marrying type. She’d tied herself into knots over broaching it with him, but in the end it was what she wanted, and, if he said no, he said no, and she would still be happy.

He’d said yes.

He was as ideal a husband as a boyfriend. They rarely fought, always on the same page. Indeed, their only big fight had been over his constant deferring on the little things in their life—what they had for dinner, where they went on vacation, what to watch on Netflix. He’d acted perplexed and hurt and then panicked when she’d called him on it, and she’d gotten more and more frustrated.

 _You’re allowed to have an opinion_ , she’d yelled when she lost her temper.

He’d nodded, taken her hands, squeezing them, and smiled. _Of course, darling. I’ve heard_ Get Out II _is good, and why don’t I pick up Chinese tomorrow night_? And Chloe had flushed, feeling silly but also like she could breathe for the first time in a long while.

The makeup sex had been amazing, him matching her passion, move for move. From then on, they were on better footing, with him expressing preferences, and she was so, so relieved. Her concerns fell to the side and everything was Perfect again.

So it was a long, long time before she realized he only ever said what he wanted when she prompted him. That even then it was often what she already desired.

Easier to pretend everything was okay.

She hated, hated, _hated_ the idea of invading his privacy, of going to Linda, and, really, would Linda even talk to her, should she put her in that position, and . . . Chloe spun and spun until one day she stopped and invited Linda out for a girls’ night. She waited until Linda was four tiki cocktails in, feeling more and more shitty about the whole thing, but then she thought about the choking feeling that plagued her most nights and gulped a few more swigs of punch.

_Linda, can I talk to you about something? I’m . . . I mean, I’m probably being paranoid, and everything’s fine, but . . .but I’m worried about Lucifer. I know you can’t tell me about your sessions, but can you at least tell me he’s all right?_

Linda’s eyes had grown as big as saucers. _Chloe_ . . . _Lucifer hasn’t been my patient for years now. Not since you two got together . . . I thought you knew that?_

And Chloe’s world was spinning again. She hadn’t known. She’d assumed . . . well, she hadn’t asked. Linda couldn’t tell her why, not for confidentiality but because she _didn’t_ _know_.

Chloe’d gone home tipsy. He was waiting for her with a glass of water and cozy pajamas.

The words spilled out, filled with too much accusation, but she was driven by the feeling of almost grasping a clue, a puzzle piece, an answer she’d been searching for longer than she realized she’d had a question. _You stopped seeing Linda._ _Why didn’t you tell me?_

He froze, eyes widening. _I didn’t need to anymore. I have you._

She felt lied to, and they fought for the first time in forever. But it was the strangest fight, like he was trying to tell her what he thought she wanted to hear but kept getting it wrong again and again.

His words fed Chloe’s growing dread, fed the vine that had been choking her heart for months now. Years, maybe. Since she nearly died from a mad professor’s poison, if she really let herself think about it. And now that she had, it was a poison in her heart, a poison in her veins, and maybe that poison was Truth.

She demanded answers, demanded explanations, and he flailed. A shiver ran down her spine, leaving her cold, as she doubted for the first time that all his words were Truth.

 _Why won’t you tell me how you feel? What_ you _want?_ she demanded again, firm, and he crumbled.

Because it doesn’t matter, he told her. Because I don’t have freewill.

She gaped. But she demanded more, and his tale tore her heart in pieces, and the poison was fire in her. He insisted he loved her, that he couldn’t _be_ without her, but also that she was his father’s manipulation, a trap. One he’d happily surrendered to, and couldn’t she just tell him what she needed him to be?

 _No_. She backed away, ran out the door, found herself checking into a hotel.

How? she wondered. How could he believe that . . . and have believed it for so long? _How could she not have noticed?_

She curled up under the covers, hugging a crisp white pillow smelling of unfamiliar detergent, and sobbed.

Was any of it real?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think, or come find me on Tumblr at [hiromystory](https://hiromystory.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
